White Flag
by Kelcat
Summary: After a drunken one night stand with Nathaniel, Anders finds himself longing for more. But with the addition of a prickly Dalish woman to their party, he fears he may never have the chance.


A wink.

That was all it had taken for Nathaniel, in his thoroughly inebriated state, to give in to his desires. One single wink from those warm brown eyes that so often mocked him. Anders had playfully flirted with him, and—without allowing himself time to think about it, to dwell on the stupidity of such an action—Nathaniel had grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs.

The inn was just on the outskirts of Amaranthine, small and shabby and not very clean. But Nathaniel was not overly concerned about the accommodations at the moment. The only thing that mattered to him was the man standing in front of him with a slightly hesitant look on his face.

He could feel the heady mixture of ale and brandy pulsing through his blood as he pressed Anders up against the wall and attacked his lips. The kisses were wet and slightly sloppy—not surprising after how much they'd both had to drink. But they still filled him with a burning need for more. Much more.

Still kissing each other passionately, Nathaniel deftly untied the laces on the mage's robes, while Anders' fingers fumbled clumsily with the buttons on Nathaniel's shirt. Impatient with the mage's progress, Nathaniel finally took over and stripped them both of their remaining clothes before pushing the other man backward onto the bed. He ran his hands along that lithe body that he had often fantasized about, but had restrained himself from taking. He bit at the flesh writhing beneath him, tasting its salty sweetness.

He kissed Anders' neck as he wrapped his fingers around the mage's stiff cock. Anders let out a gasp as he bucked his hips up into the touch.

"Do you have any oil?" Nathaniel asked.

Anders looked at him in a haze of alcoholic confusion. Comprehension finally seemed to dawn. "Um…there's some warmth balm in my pack, I think." He gestured to a pack lying on the floor nearby. Nathaniel got up and rifled through it until he found the jar of balm. He crawled back onto the bed and knelt in front of Anders. He coated his fingers in the slippery substance and brought them to the other man's entrance.

He thought he saw Anders wince as he pressed a finger inside, but then the mage smiled at him and he forgot about it. He used first one finger and then two to make sure the other man was stretched and ready for him. When he thought he'd done enough, he scooped up another dollop of the balm and used it to coat his erection. He leaned down and pressed a searing kiss to the mage's lips before thrusting into him in one quick movement. Anders cried out with pleasure.

Maker, he was so deliciously tight! Nathaniel couldn't help himself from thrusting into that tight heat with reckless abandonment. There was no going slow, no savoring the act—it was all about fast and hard and _more_. Anders cried out with each deep thrust, spurring Nathaniel onward.

He shifted his position and grinned to himself when Anders let out a loud whimper, confirming that he'd judged his angle right and hit that sensitive spot deep within the mage. Nails dug painfully into his back as he hit that spot over and over again.

He reached between them and wrapped his hand around Anders' throbbing length, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Anders' whimpers turned into loud moans and Nathaniel picked up his pace, wanting to bring the mage over first. Anders was writhing uncontrollably beneath him, his head whipping side to side. Suddenly his eyes flew open and he cried out Nathaniel's name as he reached his orgasm.

The feeling of warm liquid spilling into his hand drove Nathaniel over the edge as well and he snapped his hips one final time as he came with a hoarse shout.

He sat there for a long moment, catching his breath before his arms finally gave out and he collapsed backward onto the bed. He was surprised when Anders rolled over and snuggled up against him. He had expected the mage to give him a "thanks for the fun, we should do this again," speech and then pass out.

Bemusedly, he raised his arms and wrapped them around the other man. He could feel Anders trembling. "Are you cold?"

Anders nuzzled into his neck. "A little."

Nathaniel was sweltering, but he obligingly pulled up the covers and tucked them around the mage. Anders murmured a word of thanks, but it seemed to take a long time for the shivering to stop.

He lay there, long after Anders had fallen asleep, thinking about what the hell had just happened. It was extraordinarily unusual for him to lose control like this, and to give in to his base desires. He had eluded Anders' frivolous flirting for over a month now, knowing the careless mage didn't really mean anything by it. And Nathaniel was not the type to have a one night stand, no matter how attractive he found the other man to be.

He blamed it on the night of drinking he'd just participated in. Been bullied into participating in, actually. He had accidentally mentioned that it was his birthday, and the Commander had insisted they celebrate. His companions had kept buying him drink after drink, ignoring his protests that he didn't really care for alcohol.

All the coin Leonie had refused to spend on getting them cleaner accommodations was now being spent on seeing how drunk the normally reserved Nathaniel could actually get. Quite drunk, it seemed. And Anders had started flirting with him again. Flirting with everyone at the table, actually, but the majority of his attention seemed to be focused on Nathaniel. And when everyone else had turned in for bed, he and the mage had been left alone together and Anders' flirting grew in intensity.

And Nathaniel had finally given in. In his drunkenness he had avoided the warning bells that had rung in his head, and for once in his life had acted impulsively. Now here he was, lying beside a man who he knew would never be interested in anything more than a fling.

He sighed. His only consolation would be that perhaps Anders wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. He couldn't stand it if the mage rubbed it in his face that he'd finally worn down his defenses. He knew what he had to do. Slowly, so as not to wake the other man, he disentangled himself from Anders' embrace. He padded quietly across the room and pulled his clothes on. He cast one last look at the sleeping mage, grabbed his boots, and snuck out the door.

He felt like a thief creeping through the night as he returned to his own desolate room, but he couldn't help it. Better to leave now and pretend tomorrow morning that nothing had happened. Better to leave Anders before the mage could brush him off with careless words and gestures. Better to leave before being left.

oOoOo

Nathaniel was the first one at breakfast the next morning, despite his horrible hangover. He had thought he wouldn't be able to sleep after his encounter with Anders, but he'd collapsed into his bed as soon as he'd returned to his room and was dead to the world until sunrise.

Now that he was awake, and sober, he couldn't stop thinking about the previous night. It had been a stupid, stupid mistake—but one that he couldn't quite bring himself to regret. He tried to think through his pounding headache, but coherent thoughts were eluding him. Sensory memories were all that lingered, but they were more than enough. He could remember the feel of Anders' smooth skin beneath his hands, the sweet taste of his lyrium-tinged lips. The tight, searing heat surrounding his cock, muscles clamping around him as the mage cried out in ecstasy.

He was relieved when he saw Leonie arrive, dragging him from memories that he was sure would haunt him for a long time to come. She smiled wanly at him, and he noticed how she flinched away from the sunlight filtering in through the windows. Apparently he and the mage weren't the only ones who'd over-imbibed.

He smiled at her. "Good morning, Commander."

The petit brunette scowled at him. "How many times must I tell you, Nathaniel?" Her lilting Orlesian accent was rich and thick like honey. "You must call me Leonie—I dislike being treated like a superior." She sat down across from Nathaniel.

Nathaniel smirked. "Leonie, then. Good morning."

Her lips pursed into a cherubic pout. "It is not so good a morning when my head feels as if it's been smashed open by a troll's club."

"You've only got yourself to blame for that." Sigrun's cheerful voice filled the room as she and Anders came in.

Sigrun plopped down next to Leonie and dug into her breakfast with relish. Unlike the rest of them, she didn't seem to be suffering from the previous night's revelry at all. _Perhaps dwarves don't get hangovers_, Nathaniel thought to himself. Long nights of drinking never seemed to bother Oghren either.

Anders sat down in the chair next to Nathaniel and gave him a warm smile. "Morning!" Nathaniel's hand was resting on top of the table, and Anders covered it with one of his own. Nathaniel pulled it back immediately and reached for his spoon, taking a bite of his now-cold porridge.

"Morning, Mage." He fought to keep his voice neutral. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the mage's face fall, which surprised him. He'd expected a knowing smirk or a few teasing words. Anders seemed almost disappointed by Nathaniel's knee-jerk reaction. Which was utterly ridiculous, of course. He knew the night previous night would have meant nothing to the other man.

Leonie thankfully interrupted his thoughts as she pushed herself away from the table. "I can't eat anymore of this slop," she grumbled. "I'm going to go get some supplies and talk to that merchant again. I want us to find out what's going on in the Wending Woods. If the road to Amaranthine is too dangerous to travel, we need to clear it of these so-called bandits. We'll leave in an hour."

Nathaniel stood up. "I'll come with you. I need some more…." He cast his mind around, trying to think of something, anything that he needed more of. "…stuff." He winced inwardly. He really was not in top form today. He refused to look back at the mage as he followed Leonie out of the inn.

oOoOo

Anders had never really been a fan of nature, but he decided that he really, really, _really_ hated the Wending Woods. With a passion. Forget about the bandits and the burning attacking tree-things. The worst part about this place was that bitchy elf mage they'd run into. The one that Nathaniel seemed to take an instant liking to, Maker knew why.

Anders had hit on her himself, of course; because, well, he hit on _everyone._ The venomous look she shot him had been enough to convince him never to do it again. He'd made sure that Nathaniel wasn't anywhere nearby first. He hadn't wanted the other man to think Anders was trying to manipulate him or make him jealous. Not that Nathaniel would have noticed, he thought bitterly. Nor would he even care, apparently.

His mind wandered back to the night the two men had shared. That wonderful, soul-searing, perfect night. He had fallen for Nathaniel almost as soon as they'd met, and after more than a month of knowing each other, he'd finally gotten what he'd been fantasizing about nearly every night.

When he'd awoken the next morning it was with a smile on his face. He hadn't felt so happy, so _content_, in years. He rolled over, ready to give his lover a proper good morning kiss, only to find the other side of the bed empty.

He'd been briefly hurt before remembering that Nathaniel was always up before everyone else. He was most likely downstairs, having breakfast while he waited for Anders to wake up. He smiled to himself as he thought of them having breakfast together; talking and smiling, and sharing quick kisses in between bites of food.

The reality nearly shattered him. Nathaniel's feigned ignorance of what had happened the night before, his pulling away from Anders' contact. He could have imagined that perhaps the man had been so drunk he didn't even remember the encounter, but Anders saw the look of guilt that passed across his face. A wave of despair washed over him when he realized that that night had meant nothing to Nathaniel, or at least nothing more than a meaningless shag.

Anders' stomach roiled when he thought about how he'd almost told Nathaniel the truth beforehand: about how he'd never been intimate with anyone before. After seeing the rogue's reaction the next morning, he was eternally grateful that he'd held back. If Nathaniel had known, he most likely wouldn't have gone through with it. And regardless of how much it hurt right now, that night had meant more to him than anything else ever had.

Despite his humiliation, he tried again. During the few days that it had taken them to journey to the Wending Woods he had tried to engage Nathaniel in conversation, flirted with him, made tiny gestures of affection. But the other man had all but ignored him—he had seemed willing to converse with Anders, that was true, but he was so distant it was like a knife through Anders' heart.

But he refused to give up, certain that he'd be able to win Nathaniel over. And then they'd met that Dalish woman, Velanna, and all his dreams had been dashed to hell. Anders knew right away that Nathaniel was interested in her. He listened attentively to her story, frowning slightly when she confessed to killing several travelers because she'd thought they had kidnapped her sister. But he'd frowned even more when Anders had made a scathing remark about how she'd more or less murdered a bunch of innocent people.

When she'd suggested that the darkspawn would likely be hiding in the nearby Silverite Mines, Nathaniel had been quick to agree and suggested they head there immediately. Anders only had to poke his head into the entrance to know that there was no way he'd be able to go in. Leonie, observant as always, had suggested that he stay behind and guard the entrance.

That had been over a day ago. He had no idea how big the mines were, and therefore didn't know how long it would take for them to get through it and back to him. But, still, a day and a half seemed excessive to him.

He was just starting to get seriously worried when he saw Leonie and the others emerging from the mine—a bit disheveled and bruised, but otherwise fine. He breathed a sigh of relief. He saw Nathaniel and started to walk over to him, needing to make sure that he was alright.

He stopped short when he realized that Velanna was walking next to him. Right next to him. Practically shoulder to shoulder, in fact. They seemed to be deep in conversation, oblivious to everything and everyone around them. When they stopped near Anders, Nathaniel bent down and murmured something into the elf's ear that actually made her smile. Anders fought the urge to rush forward and throttle her.

He ignored how her smile immediately turned into a scowl when she noticed he was watching them. He turned his attention to Nathaniel, instead. "You alright?" He tried to sound casual.

Nathaniel nodded. "We're fine. A genlock caught me on the arm with his dagger, but Velanna was able to heal me." He smiled at her.

Anders looked at her suspiciously. "I thought you couldn't heal."

Velanna shrugged. "I know a bit of healing magic, enough to keep everyone alive." The look she gave him seemed to indicate her doubts as to whether or not he was as capable as her. _Bitch._

"Yes, well, everyone's fine now, so you'd best be on your way. More innocent people to kill and all that, right?"

Leonie walked up to them just then. "Velanna is coming with us, actually. I'm putting her through the Joining."

"What?" Anders felt as if he'd been slapped. "After everything she did and you're going to make her a Warden? She's a murderer!" He tried very, very hard to ignore the darkening expression on Nathaniel's face.

"The Wardens take everyone," Leonie said calmly. "Murderers, apostates…" she trailed off, giving Anders a pointed look.

Anders huffed and folded his arms. "Fine. But if you wake up with a knife in your back, don't come crying to me."

Leonie's lips quirked into a smile. "Duly noted. Now, let's get out of here before the trees try to attack us again."

oOoOo

The return journey to Vigil's Keep was nearly unbearable for Anders. The more time that passed, the closer Nathaniel and Velanna seemed to become. The prickly elf was rude to nearly everyone else, her disdain for humans so intense it could almost be tasted.

But for some reason, her hatred for all things non-Dalish did not extend to Nathaniel. It had been mid-morning when they'd emerged from the mines, so they were able to get in several hours of walking and made quite a bit of progress. Nathaniel and Velanna stuck close to each other the entire time.

There were a couple of occasions during their walk when Velanna seemed to get upset by something Nathaniel said to her, and she'd walked off in a huff. Anders' couldn't help feeling a vindictive sort of glee when that happened. Unfortunately, she hadn't seemed able to stay away for very long.

Most of the time, though, they seemed to get along well. Too well for Anders' liking. He had trailed behind them, watching them both intently but never close enough to hear what they were saying. Part of him was desperate to know what they were talking about, but he was worried he'd wind up knowing more about their possible relationship than he wanted to. So he spent his time talking with Sigrun or Leoni, and trying to ignore the other two. A plan which met with little success.

They camped just before nightfall in a small clearing. Nathaniel tended to the rabbits he had caught earlier that afternoon, while the rest of them set up camp. Anders did his best to join in the conversation over dinner, laughing and joking as usual. Being who everyone expected him to be. He'd had years to build up these walls around himself. To pretend he didn't care about anyone or anything. As he sat there eating he realized with dismay that Nathaniel had actually started to tear those walls down, even though the rogue didn't know it.

He no longer remembered how he had gotten his reputation in the Tower. Everyone gossiped—there was little else to do. And Anders, who was everyone's pal but no one's friend, was an easy target. Look at how confident he is, they would say. He never lets anything get to him. He's so charming, and he flirts with everyone—_of course _he's had lovers, dozens of them probably. Hundreds maybe. It was funny to him that it never seemed to occur to them that no one had ever claimed to have actually had sex with him. It was always just someone they knew—a friend of a friend knew this one apprentice who'd had Anders in the library once, or there was a Templar who mostly kept to himself but always seemed to be on patrol in the areas that Anders hung out in.

And, of course, there was the outside world. To hear the mages speak, he'd slept with more than half the people in Ferelden. All those escapes, he was sure to meet all types of exciting and attractive people. And he had. But he'd never been intimate with anyone. No one in the Tower, no one in the real world. Not until Nathaniel.

He looked over at where Nathaniel and Velanna were seated; close enough from the fire to still feel it's warmth, but far enough away to have a bit of space to themselves. Cursing himself silently, he let his curiosity get the better of him. He casually wandered over to them, catching them in the middle of a conversation.

"...so long as it's a pretty brush, I don't mind." Nathaniel's voice was soft and tinged with amusement.

Velanna huffed, though there was a tiny smile on her face. "I'm sure I don't know what that means."

"It means your apology is appreciated, my lady."

"Oh, please!" Anders snorted in disgust, unable to keep silent. "'Pretty brush?' 'My Lady'? Why don't you just hand her a rose and be done with it?"

He pitched his voice into a high falsetto and clutched his hands to his breast dramatically. "Oh, thank you, ser! This is so bee-yoo-tiful!"

His voice dropped down a few octaves, his face imitating Nathaniel's serious expression. "Not as beautiful as you." He gave a high, mirthless bark of laughter.

Nathaniel glared daggers at him. "What is your problem, Mage?"

Anders continued laughing, shaking his head. "Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. I'm just going to go over here and vomit." He turned and stalked away from them, his face contorted with hurt and jealousy.

He was stopped some distance away by a hand grasping his shoulder. He spun around and found himself face-to-face with Nathaniel, cold fury radiating from him.

"Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Anders shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing's going on. Everything's fine."

"You interrupt my conversation with Velanna just so you can humiliate and embarrass her. I'd say there's damn well something going on!"

"I just don't like her," Anders sulked. "I'm allowed to not like her. There's no crime against it."

"I realize that. But what I don't understand is _why_ you don't her."

"Andraste's ass! Nobody likes her! Except for you."

"That's not fair. Sigrun and Leonie like her just fine. In fact, you're the only one that seems to have a problem with her." Nathaniel continued glaring at him. "And just because you don't like her, that's still no reason to be rude. She wasn't bothering you."

Anders sighed, defeated. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Nathaniel nodded, appeased. "You should go apologize to her."

Anders repressed a snort. _Not bloody likely._ He held his tongue, giving only the tiniest of nods.

They stood there in silence for a few moments.

Nathaniel offered him a conciliatory smile. "I like talking to Velanna, she has a lot of really interesting stories. The Dalish are fascinating."

"They're insane, that's what they are." Anders frowned. "And they're not that keen on humans, either. Especially _her_._"_

"She has a name, you know," Nathaniel said reproachfully.

"Oh, right, I forgot. _My Lady_." The words dripped with bitterness.

"Why do you dislike her so much?"

"Why do _you_ like her?" Anders countered.

"She's actually quite nice. And funny. Something you'd know if you ever took the opportunity to talk to her." Nathaniel folded his arms.

"Why should I talk to her? You do it plenty enough for everyone." Anders hoped that Nathaniel wouldn't notice the hurt in his voice.

"She's lonely. She doesn't have anyone."

_Like I do?_ Anders wanted to shout at him. Instead he just huffed. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing she has you then, isn't it."

Nathaniel peered at him intently. "You're jealous, aren't you? You flirted with her and she turned you down. And now you're trying to punish her for that."

Anders gaped at him. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! I wouldn't touch her if you paid me."

"That's surprising," Nathaniel huffed, "I didn't think you had standards."

Anders stared at him, shocked.

Nathaniel's face fell. "Anders, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

Anders clenched his fists. "Don't worry, Nathaniel," his voice was flat. "I won't bother the two of you anymore." With one last scathing look at the rogue he spun around and stomped off to his tent, rage and hurt searing through every part of his body.

oOoOo

Leonie put Velanna through the Joining as soon as they arrived back at Vigil's Keep. Nathaniel paced back and forth outside the throne room during the ceremony, praying to the Maker that she'd survive. He had no idea how many people actually died during their Joining, but he'd heard Oghren talk about that recruit, Mhairi. When Leonie came out into the hallway smiling, he nearly collapsed with relief. He had very few people he could consider a friend, and Velanna had surprisingly become one of them.

He just wished that Anders didn't hate her so much. He just didn't understand. The Dalish woman was prickly, yes, but he would have thought the two of them would get along well, given that they were both mages. But Anders refused to speak to her, or even look at her. He supposed he should be grateful that Anders was no longer openly hostile toward her, but he still wished they could get along. He missed talking with Anders, laughing with him. But Velanna needed him more right now, he was sure. She had just lost her sister, her clan, everything that she cared about. He knew all too well how that felt, and he knew she needed a friend. Anders had enough friends, he thought with not a little bitterness. He didn't need Nathaniel.

It wasn't until a few days later that he realized he'd hardly seen the other man at all since they'd gotten back. He hadn't been taking his meals with the other Wardens, and he was absent from the training yards as well. On the rare occasions he had seen the other man, Anders had either glared at him or ignored him completely.

After several days of this, Nathaniel had had enough. When Anders didn't show up for the evening meal yet again, he marched up to the mage's room, ready to confront him once and for all. He knocked loudly on the door. He heard some shuffling before the door was opened to reveal a tired and rumpled looking mage.

"May I come in?" Nathaniel asked.

Anders looked at him warily. Finally he shrugged and opened the door wider, allowing Nathaniel to slip inside before closing it again.

Nathaniel turned to look at him, dismayed to see how unhappy his friend looked. "Would you like to tell me what is going on?"

Anders looked at him, but did not speak.

"Answer me, Mage."

"Don't call me that!" Anders burst out. "I have a name, you know."

Nathaniel looked at him, his brow furrowed. _What in the Maker's name is going on?_

"Anders," he said quietly. "What is wrong? Did I do something to make you mad at me?"

Anders refused to meet his gaze. "I don't want to talk about this."

"Well, that's too damn bad," Nathaniel growled. "We're going to talk about this, whether you want to or not. I'm tired of you glaring at me all the time—or at least the times when I actually see you. You're angry with me, and I need to know why."

Anders stood there for a long time, staring at the floor and not saying anything. Finally he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just…we've never talked about what happened."

It took Nathaniel a moment to figure out what the other man meant. He let out a deep sigh. "I didn't know what to say," he replied honestly.

A look of pain crossed Anders' face. "You're pretending like that night never happened. You do remember that night, don't you? The night we had sex?"

"Of course I rememb—"

Anders ignored him. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to know that it meant _nothing_ to you? To know that, to you, it was just some casual fling that didn't really matter."

Nathaniel looked at him helplessly. "I didn't—" he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it seem like that. But you've had lots of flings," he tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "It's not as if I was your first."

Anders bit at his lip. He turned his head away, but not before Nathaniel noticed the unshed tears pooling in his eyes. Nathaniel looked at him in confusion. _What in the Maker's name…?_

He chuckled nervously. "I was just joking, Anders, I didn't…" he trailed off uncertainly when the other man's expression clouded even further. He couldn't possibly be serious, could he? Nathaniel thought back to that night as he studied Anders' face.

He remembered that look that Anders had had when Nathaniel had pushed him up against the wall. He had looked hesitant, nervous. And he'd seemed almost confused when Nathaniel had asked him about the oil, as if he didn't understand why he was asking for such a thing.

And then everything finally clicked into place. The awkward fumbling, the alternating looks of uncertainty and surprise. And the mage, trembling in his arms afterward.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Maker's breath—I was your first."

Anders' continuing silence was all the confirmation he needed.

He felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach, all of his breath knocked from him. He'd not been gentle that night, he'd been rough and impatient. Those hadn't been cries of pleasure issuing from the other man, they'd been cries of pain. He suddenly felt as if he was going to throw up.

"Oh, Anders," he moaned. "I am so, so sorry." He looked at the mage helplessly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Anders was still refusing to look at him. "Because I was afraid that if you knew the truth, you wouldn't want me. And I was right, wasn't I?"

"No." Nathaniel shook his head. "No. I did want you. You have no idea how much."

"Then why didn't you stay?" Anders finally looked up at him, anguished. "I woke up the next morning and you were just gone. And then at breakfast you practically ignored me. It felt like…like you'd just used me. And when you were done you just threw me away like I was nothing."

Nathaniel had thought he couldn't possibly feel any worse. He was wrong.

The anguish in Anders' voice was almost unbearable. "I just never thought that you, of all people, would do something like this. I thought it meant something."

"It did," Nathaniel said softly.

Ander snorted. "Right. It meant that you had too much to drink and needed someone to fuck. And I just happened to be available."

"That's not true!" Nathaniel said vehemently. "I treated it like it was just one night because…because I thought that's all I could ever have with you. I thought that's all you'd ever _want _from me. If I'd thought that I had even the _slightest _chance of having something more with you, I would've taken it. In a heartbeat."

Anders didn't seem to hear him. "Look, just...just forget it." His face was the picture of misery. "If you...if you want to be with her, then you should be with her."

Nathaniel looked at him, perplexed. "Anders, what are you talking about?"

"Velanna." Anders' voice was choked. "If she makes you happy, then that's all that matters, right? I just thought that maybe..." he let out a loud sigh. "Forget it. It doesn't really matter what I thought."

Nathaniel stepped forward and grasped Anders' shoulders. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I just flirted with her, Anders. That's all, I swear. We've never even kissed."

For the first time since Nathaniel had walked into the room, Anders truly looked at him. "But all that time you spend with her…I thought…"

Nathaniel cupped his cheek. "I spend time with her because she's a friend. That's all. And I'm fairly certain that's all she thinks of me as well."

He braced himself, deciding that it was time to tell Anders what he should have that night. "There's only one person that I've wanted to be with since I returned home from the Free Marches. And that's you."

A tiny spark of hope seemed to shine in Anders' eyes. "Really?"

Nathaniel nodded, smiling. "Really." Hesitantly, he leaned forward and brushed their lips together gently.

He felt Anders tense for just a moment before mercifully relaxing into the kiss. He parted his lips and Nathaniel took the opportunity to dart his tongue inside. Anders fought back with his own tongue, and soon both men were moaning.

An eternity later, they finally broke from the kiss. Nathaniel's heart felt lighter than it had in days when he saw the gentle smile on the other man's lips. "I'm so sorry about how I behaved that night, Anders. It was your first time, it should have been special."

"It _was_ special," Anders insisted.

Nathaniel let out a disbelieving snort. "Right. I'm sure you wanted to lose your virginity to some drunken person in a seedy little inn while you were equally drunk."

"You aren't just 'some drunken person'." Anders smiled at him tenderly. "I've wanted you since I met you." He reached up and brushed a lock of Nathaniel's hair out of his face. And no matter what, I'm glad you were my first."

Nathaniel shifted slightly and wrapped his arms around Anders' waist, pulling him in tight. He nuzzled at Anders' cheek. "Let me do it right," he whispered.

"What? Like a 'do over'?" Anders chuckled.

Nathaniel smiled to himself. "Exactly." He pulled back to look at the man standing before him. "I want to…I want to show you how it _should_ be."

Anders worried at his bottom lip with his teeth. Slowly he nodded. "I'd like that," he murmured before leaning in for another kiss.

One arm still wrapped firmly around Anders' waist, Nathaniel continued kissing the other man as he reached down to undo the ties on his robes. He broke the kiss long enough to pull Anders' robes over his head and then leaned in to place gentle kisses on his shoulder and along his neck. Anders sighed with pleasure.

Nathaniel led the other man over to the bed and motioned for him to stretch out on it. He then proceeded to get undressed, his eyes never leaving the handsome mage. When he'd divested himself of his clothing he crawled into the bed and stretched out next to the other man.

With his head propped up with one hand, he slowly ran the fingers of his other hand along Anders' chest and thighs. He felt the man shivering beneath him, but he could tell it was in anticipation rather than nervousness.

He trailed his fingers even lower until they came to Anders' stiffened length. He leaned in for another tender kiss as he grasped the other man's erection and stroked him once. Anders moaned against Nathaniel's lips as he arched his hips upward. Nathaniel slowly stroked him, delighting in the gasps and moans he was eliciting from the other man.

"Nate, please." Anders reached up to cup Nathaniel's face. "I want you."

Nathaniel's eyes blazed with need. "Do you have any—"

"Warmth balm?" Anders' lips quirked into a grin.

Nathaniel chuckled. "That would work."

Anders got up and pulled a jar of balm from a chest sitting under the window. He returned to the bed and placed the jar in Nathaniel's waiting hand. Nathaniel removed the lid and dipped his fingers into the slippery cream. Memories of the last time he had done this came back to him, but he was determined that this time would be different.

He motioned for Anders to crook his legs to allow him better access. He ran his finger over the tight ring of muscle at Anders' entrance, lightly teasing. He watched the pleasure play across the mage's face as he slowly pressed one finger inside.

He slowly moved his finger in and out for a few moments before adding a second. Anders began rocking his hips in response, and soon Nathaniel's fingers were pressing against that sweet spot inside him. Anders gasped and bucked his hips.

Nathaniel continued the motions for a bit longer before finally removing his fingers. He coated his length in more of the balm and positioned himself at Anders' entrance. He looked down at the mage and smiled when Anders nodded that he was ready. Slowly, slowly he pressed inside.

Once he was fully seated, he paused, peppering the other man's lips with tiny kisses as he waited for him to adjust to the feeling of Nathaniel's thick length inside him.

Anders wrapped his hands around Nathaniel's biceps and nodded his head once again. Nathaniel began to move his hips, his thrusts long but gentle. He willed himself to go slow, to savor the feeling of Anders tight around him. He never once took his eyes off of his lover, lost in those warm brown eyes that were filled with desire.

Anders began moaning his name as Nathaniel gradually picked up the pace. Nathaniel snaked one of his hands between them and grasped Anders' erection again. He stroked the man in time with his thrusts until Anders was gasping and writhing beneath him.

Anders tightened his hold on Nathaniel's arms as he thrust his hips upwards, crying out as he spilled his seed into Nathaniel's hand. Nathaniel followed soon after, moaning as he released deep inside his lover.

He remained where he was for a moment longer, drinking in the sight of the handsome and thoroughly sated man lying beneath him. He finally gently separated them, and stretched out next to the other man. He pulled his lover tight against him and kissed him warmly. He gently stroked Anders' hair, smiling at him fondly.

Anders burrowed into Nathaniel's hold. "That was…" he gave a happy sigh. "I didn't know it could be like _that_."

Nathaniel chuckled. "I'm glad it was better this time." He continued stroking the silky blond hair. "I'm sorry for—"

Anders placed a finger across his lips, silencing him. "That doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that you're here." His brows suddenly creased in worry. "You are here, aren't you? You're not going to leave again?"

Nathaniel smiled at him warmly. "I'm here, Anders. For as long as you want me."

Anders relaxed and settled back down, resting his head on Nathaniel's shoulder. "That could be a long time."

Nathaniel chuckled as he tightened his hold on the other man. "I certainly hope so."


End file.
